Huddled for Warmth
by HeidiBug731
Summary: Lavellan can't get warm no matter what she tries, but she has a cuddly wolf to keep her company. Fluff. One shot.


She's always had a problem with the cold. Even in Skyhold, she wears more layers than most refuges. But that's how she's always been. As a child, she overheard the Keeper and her parents discussing whether or not she'd survive to adulthood. She just has trouble staying warm.

Bright hot and sunny days have never bothered her the way they might bother other people – she simply soaks up the heat – warm and content, like a dessert lizard. But the cold... the cold is hard. Skyhold can be hard.

Empris du Lion is worse.

How frigid does it have to be to freeze an entire river and its waterfalls? She doesn't want to know – doesn't need to know. She's knows she's the coldest she's ever been in her life, and that's enough.

She stays in front of the group as they travel – leading Solas, Cassandra, and Dorian. She does this so they can't see her teeth chattering. The gods forbid either of them ask how she's holding up. She can barely feel her fingertips or her toes. Part of her is tempted to leave this place to the Templars.

The only thing that keeps her going is the thought of the citizens of Sahrnia who are counting on her – that, and moving keeps her warm. Dorian's complaints of the weather don't hurt either. At least she's not the only one who disagrees with being here, though she knows he's not as cold as her. No one is ever as cold as her.

She's reluctant when they stop to make camp. Stopping means not moving, and not moving lets the cold set in. Even once they get the campfire going, it isn't much help. If she gets close, the fire is too hot. The heat burns her skin through her clothing. But backing far enough away to not burn affords no warmth at all. She can't find that happy medium in between. So she settles for the burning and rubbing her arms and legs to keep the unpleasantness away but still hoping to absorb some of the heat.

When it's time for sleep, they all move close to one another to keep warm. She wraps her blanket around her like a cocoon and thinks warm thoughts, trying to mentally raise her body temperature. It doesn't work – it never does, but that's never stopped her from trying. Eventually, exhaustion wins out over the cold, and she falls asleep.

* * *

She should have seen it coming, considering all the fire that was flung around while battling demons on the river's surface. Still, the ice seemed impenetrable. They'd left numerous slash marks, and the ice had showed no signs of cracking. It didn't cross her mind for a second that the ice might be thinner at the river's edges.

Her foot goes in first. And that could have been the end of it had she stopped and removed her foot slowly. Instead, the freezing water startles her. And in trying to yank her foot from the ice, she flails backwards onto more thin ice, which cracks and yields more water.

The water is so frigid it shocks the breath from her lungs, bringing stabbing pain. She struggles for air as she fights to keep her head above the water. The numbing chill soaks through her clothes and suffocates all body heat she'd gained from the exertion of battle.

The water isn't deep. Her back lies against the riverbed. She's in no danger of drowning so long as she keeps her wits about her. In fact, if she thought about it, she could easily pull herself up. But she doesn't think – can't think about anything but the icy water. She never realized cold could be painful. The bones in her feet feel like they've turned to needles as she kicks them, struggling to stand.

It's Dorian who finally pulls her out. Being in the air is worse than the water. The breeze chills her even further. She can't stop her limbs from shaking. Her lungs and feet still bring stabbing pain to the point that she wonders if moving either is worth trying.

"We have to get those clothes off," says Cassandra.

Both sets of hands remove her clothing within seconds. She stands shivering against the air, covering herself more from the chill than modesty, until Dorian throws a blanket around her and lifts her off her feet. He carries her in his arms while Cassandra hurries ahead to find a suitable location for a fire. Solas takes up the rear, carrying her drenched clothing.

Even once they find a decent location, they still need firewood. Cassandra goes to look for some while Dorian sits her on the ground and rubs the blanket furiously against her skin, trying to keep her warm. The friction hurts, her skin burning in protest as though it's determined to remain cooled.

"She's turning blue," says Solas, his voice going higher at the end, betraying his usual calm.

"Cassandra!" Dorian shouts in desperation. "I can't make fire from nothing!" And then, as though remembering he _can_ make fire from nothing, he removes his hands from her limbs and lights a ring of flame around her. The blaze offers heat for only a moment before dying out on the frozen ground.

" _Venhedis! Fasta Vass!_ " Dorian curses, his hands returning to the blanket and rubbing with renewed vigor. The burning sensation returns, but no warmth. Her limbs continue to shake of their own volition.

She wants to tell Dorian it's okay, that it's not his fault if she freezes to death. After all, she's the one who tripped and fell in the water. She should have been paying more attention. And really, this was a long time coming. Her clan wouldn't blame the Inquisition at all to learn she died in a frozen wasteland. There's nothing ironic or blamable about this.

She wants to tell him, but her teeth chatter if she doesn't hold them together, so the words go unspoken.

And then, just as she's starting to lose feeling in everything and she's thinking a nap might be nice, the muzzle of a giant wolf nudges Dorian out of the way. The animal places its paws on her shoulders and nestles close to her on its hind legs. The animal's stomach feels almost hot against her frozen skin. Her fingers are stiff and she can hardly control them anymore, but she buries them and her face in the creature's thick fur. Her body continues to shake, but she can feel the heat of the animal's body breaking through the cold.

Dorian secures the blanket around her and continues to rub it against her skin. In time, the burning sensation subsides, her skin finally warming. Cassandra returns with usable wood, and a fire is started. No longer in danger of freezing to death, she falls asleep still clutching the strange animal.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell us you were a shapeshifter?" she hears Cassandra's accusing tone when she awakes.

"Does not your chantry consider such skills barbaric?" asks Solas. "Would I have seemed friendlier to you if I had divulged it alongside fadewalking?"

"I suppose..." says Cassandra, faltering.

"That skill could have been particularly useful in our battles," says Dorian.

"It is not a skill I've honed for combat." Solas explains. "I use it mostly for travel... and warmth."

The group looks to her, seeing that she is awake. She sits, wrapping the blanket around her more tightly.

Solas gets to her first. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she tells him. But already she can feel the cold air raising the hairs on her skin.

"Your clothes are dry," Solas tells her as he reaches for them. Then he pauses. "A moment." He holds the pile of folded clothing in his hands as he casts a spell. Green flame engulfs her clothing but nothing burns.

At length, the flames subside and Solas hands the pile to her. It's blissfully warm, and she has to resist the urge to hug the pile to her instead of wearing it. But once she's dressed, she's the most content she's been since arriving in the Emprise. The air steals the warmth from her clothing once it's on, but her body heat is sufficient to take over… for now.

"Thank you," she tells Solas as they move out.

He gives her smile. "My pleasure."

The rest of the day is spent battling Red Templars and taking Suledin Keep. When it's time to set up camp again, she's surprised when Solas lays next to her in his wolf form. But she doesn't complain. If the first time since arriving in the Emprise that she doesn't fall asleep cold.

* * *

"Can you take other forms?" she asks him the next morning before they head into the mines to free the workers.

"No," he tells her. "I only learned the wolf form for travel, after which I felt no need to take another."

"Why a wolf?" asks Cassandra, overhearing. "Surely a bird could travel faster."

"A wolf is an intelligent creature, for which they have my respect." Solas explains. "However misunderstood they might be."

The conversation should have ended there, but as the group continues on, Solas grabs her hand. "You are cold."

Her nails are purple underneath instead of the usual healthy pink. They've been that way since arriving in the Emprise. She wears open-fingered gloves to keep her hands warm. She even had a fur lining added to them for extra protection. But she needs her fingertips exposed to grip her weapon properly, and no matter what she tries her blood circulation doesn't seem capable of warming them.

"It's nothing," she tries to tell him.

But he shakes his head. He Lets go of her hand and removes his green leather vest. "Take it," he says, holding it out to her.

"But... won't you be cold?" she asks.

"I can bare it." He shakes the vest at her.

"You don't have to do that," she tells him, still not taking it

"I am at peace with it," he insists. "If it means you will be warmer."

She's heartened by the gesture and doesn't protest further. She puts the vest on and is surprised by how heavy it is. Even though the vest hangs open in the front, she immediately feels warmer. And more than that, the vest carries a scent that reminds her of Solas' wolf form. She hurries to the front of the group so no one can see the stupid grin on her face.

She and Solas had shared a kiss in the fade – a rather enthusiastic kiss, at that. But he told her he needed time to consider pursuing a relationship. She was willing to give him that… and had given him that. But so far, he hasn't said a word about it.

She isn't going to bring it up. The last thing she wants is to appear as some love-sick puppy. No, nothing would be said unless he brought it up first. And if he says nothing and lets it fall to the wayside…

That would be his loss, then.

Still, it's a little confusing for her emotions to be cuddling with him at night. She has to remind herself it's only to keep warm. After all, Dorian and Cassandra have cuddled up the past few nights and there's certainly no feelings between the two of them… Well, no affection anyway. Nearly every night and the proceeding morning ends and begins with open threats between the two of them of what would happen if they speak to anyone about their sleeping arrangements.

Solas doesn't say a word to her when they lay down to sleep – just turns into a wolf and lets her hug him to her. When she wakes, he waits for her to rise before becoming himself again. Even then, the only words spoken are her continued thank you's. Their situation is not hostile, but not an indication of affection either. Surely, he's just concerned about keeping her warm and nothing more.

But her heart still leaps at being so close to him. And the scent from his vest sends her mind racing with daydreams. She's grateful when they find the Templars and everything else fades from her mind.

* * *

She's elated when the Red Templars are driven from Shanria and the miners have been freed and returned to their homes. Her first thought is that she can finally leave this frozen wasteland. Her second is she won't be spending any more nights with Solas. Her third is she has to give his vest back.

When they arrive at Skyhold she notes how much warmer the temperature is than it had been in Shanria, though it doesn't stop the problem her body has at keeping her warm. She asks Solas if she can borrow his vest a little longer and presents it as a model to the armory where she has a similar piece commissioned for herself.

When she does return the vest to him, she's surprised that he asks to speak with her in private. She's even more surprised when he admits his feelings for her and they share their second kiss on the balcony.

Though, when night falls, she's still alone. And no matter how many blankets she piles on her bed, it's hard for her to keep warm. She spends a lot of time cursing the mountains and the large drafty doors that lead out to the cool air.

She considers asking Solas to join her. But even with his declaration of love, she worries her words might be taken the wrong way. In the end, even she isn't sure which way she means them.

So she shivers under the bed covers, waiting for her body to start generating heat correctly when there's a knock at her door. As cold as she is lying in bed, it's worse when she pulls back the covers. The cool mountain air surrounds her, and she crosses her arms in an attempt to keep the heat in. Nevertheless, she strides to the door and opens it.

Solas is standing there, looking at her as though she should be expecting him. And then, without a word, he bends forward. By the time his hands touch the floor, they've become paws and the wolf stands before her - its blue-grey eyes the only indication it's still Solas. He walks to her bed and nuzzles back the covers. Then he curls into a ball as though this is where he's meant to sleep.

She joins him in the bed. And with him beside her, the cold is kept at bay.


End file.
